Ella and the other superhumans partaking in the Superhero Assessment Test assembled at the cavernous holding area in their training suits, with the door leading into the holohabitat looming ahead.
For some reason, the agents denied them entry to the waiting room beyond the wall, so they had no choice but to remain standing. That mattered not to Ella, who was lost in a tumultuous whirlwind rampaging through her mind. As if strapped to a chair in a gloomy room with a projector, she watched that day over and over again, thinking of ways she could save Rebecca. Had she placed faith in her capabilities and suppressed the fear that haunted her, she could have easily dealt with Killer Cell before their separation on that dreaded floor where they were ambushed. Like a landscape-altering avalanche, all her pent-up emotions came roaring from the recesses in her mind where she hid them.
Two warm arms wrapped around her, snapping her trance.
Upon regaining her vision, she found that Bohdan, Sasha, and Jamal had encircled her—all spotting concerned expressions. Kylara was the one hugging her.
“Are you okay, Ella?” Sasha asked. “You’ve been quiet as a dead mouse.”
She wiped away the tears and forced a smile. “I’m not. But I’ll be fine.”
Bohdan’s expression turned into a frown as he folded his arms. “What happened yesterday? Did you fail the rescue test?”
“Bohdan!” Sasha pushed him but bounced off instead. “You can’t possibly be that daft. There is no way failing a fucking five percent test would make her cry for chrissake. I mean, look how much I’ve flunked.”
“But she is not you, Sasha. Not everyone is as used to failure as you are.”
Sasha gasped, dropping her jaw in shock. Everyone laughed, including Ella. This time, the tears leaking from her eyes came from her struggle to contain herself.
“You can let go of me now, Kylara,” she said. “Thanks… for everything.”
“You sure?” the rust-skinned woman inquired. “Your mind is still plagued with negative emotions.” Then Kylara gasped. “Oh. Please do not misinterpret. I did not read your mind. I only sensed your surface thoughts.”
She nodded, taking deep breaths to prepare herself for the day ahead. “It’s okay. Trust me.”
The conversation shifted to the reasons they weren’t allowed into the waiting room. Jamal’s comment about HAVEN still repurposing the holohabitat into something else made the best sense until Ella remembered that the waiting room was just ahead. The holohabitat came after.
“Hey. What’s up?” a male voice called behind her.
She turned and was greeted by a blonde man almost as tall as Bohdan, but significantly more lean. The man offered a handshake, which she apprehensively took.
“You may not recognize me,” he said, “as we didn’t speak, but I attended the superhero convention. I thought you looked familiar.”
She squinted, trying to put a name to the stranger’s face.
“Oh, right. Forgive my manners. I’m Jack. I was present in the war room when we met Novaman.”
“Well, uh… Sorry, but I don’t recognize you. That day was one to forget.”
“Indeed it was.” Jack nodded. “Changed my perspective on many things. No worries. My presence there was ultimately inconsequential. I’m sorry for bringing it up, but I wanted to thank you for your bravery that day. Had you not stood in the line of fire, a lot of us would’ve been dead. I sure as hell would’ve.”
She didn’t have any words to say, so she could only nod.
After Jack left, Sasha shuffled closer. “You were at the tower when it happened?”
“Yeah,” she said.
Sasha shot a quick glance at Bohdan. “Well, that big oof and I were there as well. You know, me being me, I got into a fight and knocked a bratty bitch out, so Bohdan had to talk us out of trouble. We missed the chance to meet Novaman, but I guess it was a blessing in disguise.”
She tried to brighten up her face. “It is what it is. Fate was favorable for you that day, unlike some others.”
“Can you tell me what the hell happened? HAVEN’s agents wouldn’t say jack shit.”
A lump caught in her throat. “Uh…”
“Now look at who is acting daft.” Bohdan placed a heavy hand on Sasha’s shoulder and pulled her back. “Can’t you see how uncomfortable she is?”
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“It’s okay, Bohdan,” she said.
“You sure?” He narrowed a probing gaze at her.
“Yeah.” Then she turned to Sasha. “A superhuman with a personal vendetta against HAVEN attacked that day and escaped. Now HAVEN’s looking for him. That’s as much as I can share, I think.”
“Shit, then he must be one powerful sonofabitch,” Sasha noted, “to have the balls to show his face when Novaman was present and still live to tell the tale.”
“Sonofabitch?” she scoffed. “Now that’s a fitting word to describe him. Though I prefer piece of shit.”
“Quiet down everyone!” Ivarsson called, standing before them. To her left stood Synapse, whose eyes scanned the crowd with indifference, her lens pupils dilating and contracting at varying intervals. Behind them stood more agents at attention.
Once the noise gave way to silence, Synapse’s amplified voice boomed. “As previously communicated, today’s objective is the obstacle course, worth 7%. This concludes the physical assessment parameter. However, unlike every other component you have partaken in, the prohibition on utilizing other powers save for your physical abilities has been lifted.”
“Fuck yes!” Sasha screamed, then gasped once she realized what she had done.
Because of her outburst, Sasha garnered the full attention of the Director of the Techno-Crisis Innovation Bureau, Synapse, who fixated her with a calculating gaze, devoid of any emotion.
“Sorry,” Sasha muttered, shrinking.
With Sasha still having her undivided attention, Synapse continued. “In other words, you are granted full autonomy in completing the obstacle course. My only stipulation is that under no circumstances are you allowed to hinder another participant’s race with your powers.” Synapse shifted her focus, taking in the assembled candidates. “Before we proceed, a critical update is required. Throughout the duration of the Superhero Assessment Test, a comprehensive data acquisition protocol has been in place. This includes visual surveillance, audio recordings, performance metrics, and sensor data collected from the training apparatuses. As you are aware, this data is essential for generating your respective ranking indices. It also serves a crucial secondary function: the enforcement of protocol adherence. Specifically, the prohibition against the utilization of nonphysical abilities during the previous components.”
Oh shit, Ella gasped, now understanding where Synapse was headed. The temperature dropped in the cavernous room, a rising tension taking over.
“Those individuals whose names I will now call will be escorted by the designated agent to the portal gate. You will be returned to The Genesis Empowerment Center, accompanied by documentation outlining the rationale for your dismissal.” Her gaze fell on the agent who stepped forward, hand raised in acknowledgment. “Elisha Potter, Lise Mayer, Ibrahim Patton, Dean Hoover, and Jerome Parks. You are hereby disqualified from the Superhero Assessment Test.”
A woman standing nearby broke into tears, her friend moving to console her.
“What?” a maddened voice roared. “How? Why? This is unjust! I did nothing wrong.”
The man pushed through the crowd, stumping over to Synapse, who motioned Ivarsson to stand down.
“You are disqualified, Dean Hoover,” Synapse said as the man drew near, spittle flying as he argued his case.
“For doing what? I’ve been as clean as a preacher’s Sunday suit. There’s nothing you can pin on me. What did you see, huh? Tell me! I need proof!”
The ape robot’s head swiveled downward, its red eye taking note.
“Mr. Hoover, your lack of decorum is as impressive as your blatant disregard for ethical conduct. It appears you’ve not only embraced deceit, but cultivated it into an art form. Your entire performance, riddled with fabricated wind gusts and deliberate misdirection, was so transparent it would have been embarrassing had it not been so pathetic. Did you truly believe me incapable? Did you think I would miss the obvious footage of you pushing yourself down the track with wind? Did you imagine the training dummy would fail to detect your fabricated wind currents throwing its attacks off target? Leave the premises, Mr. Hoover.”
Stammering as his failure dawned on him, Dean Hoover screamed. “But it ain’t fair! Some of us lack superhuman strength and speed! Does that mean we should be discriminated against? That we ought to look the other way when you are playing favoritism? Is this what HAVEN’s about?”
“We designed the Superhero Assessment Test to emulate the challenges our superheroes face in the field,” Synapse stated, her tone devoid of empathy. “Your assessment of its inadequacies in fairly evaluating all superhumans mirrors the inherent complexities of real-world scenarios. I acknowledge your perceived prejudice. Your belief that your wind abilities should be given equal weight. However, consider the superhumans who are physically inept, and whose limitations are masked by ostentatious displays of power. What becomes of them when confronted by adversaries driven by ruthless intent and unyielding physical dominance? We must establish a baseline, a fundamental standard that every superhero must meet. Based on my analysis, you possessed sufficient strength and speed to surpass this threshold. It was your excessive ambition, your insatiable greed, that ultimately led to your downfall.”
Dean Hoover ground his teeth and clenched his fists, unable to find any words to defend himself. Frustrated and desperate, he resorted to physical retaliation. A powerful gust of wind erupted around him, fueled by his blind rage, which he directed toward Synapse. Unfortunately for him, the ape robot slammed a large hand down in front of Synapse. The sweeping wind blades cracked against its forearm, but to Hoover’s dismay, not even a scratch marred its surface. Defeated and filled with fear, Hoover looked up at the imposing robot.
Two of the many cylindrical protrusions dotting the robot’s back launched into the air, curved inward on gimballing rockets, and exploded just before impacting Hoover, dousing him in a dense, blue cloud. Hoover let out a scream of terror instead of anger, desperately trying to flee from the cloud, but it pursued him relentlessly, regardless of where he went. Some people had to dart out of the way to let him through as he scrambled about. Soon, Hoover came to a halt and dropped still. Only then did the blue cloud disperse like magic, turning into nothingness.
As some agents moved to transport Hoover while the other disqualified superhumans were leaving with somber expressions, Ella glanced back at Synapse, reassessing how dangerous and powerful the director was.
Afterward, the ominous double doors leading into the holohabitat slid open. As they filed into the welcoming waiting room—quiet and poised as if they were soldiers headed to a highly contested war front—the second set of doors ahead revealed a pathway into the holohabitat. So, without further delay, they shuffled down the wide hallway into the holohabitat proper. There, a repurposed landscape readied for the upcoming obstacle course greeted them.